


Spiders and Legs and Kisses, oh my!

by Satine86



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, No Plot/Plotless, Romance, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't that she feared them, exactly. It was simply that they... unsettled her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders and Legs and Kisses, oh my!

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless fluff brought to you by a spider in my bedroom and a tumblr prompt: 
> 
> Imagine person A of your OTP trying to secretly kiss person B’s cheek while they’re asleep but B shifts and A accidentally kisses their mouth and pulls back flustered and looks down at a wide eyed B who pulls them back for a real kiss.

It wasn't that she feared them, exactly. It was simply that they... unsettled her. 

Spiders. 

Cassandra had no problem when fighting them in caves, those were large and easy to track. A straightforward attack, the use of blunt force and she was fine. 

She did not mind the smaller ones when they crossed her path in nature, armor clad and on guard, she could brush them off. Though at times it was difficult to suppress a shudder of revulsion when they were traipsing through the forest, and one would _plop_ on her shoulder or head. But she would not shriek or cry out, she would not dance around in a tizzy like some she had known in her life. 

No, Cassandra would grit her teeth, brush it aside and try not to think on the incident ever again. If some people in the party noticed, they had the courtesy not to mention it. Except she was certain she caught Varric laughing once. 

Or twice. 

Cassandra would simply brush the observation off, much like she did the spiders.

Still, he never brought it up. Didn't tease her for it, and that was... that was good. Though she had grown quite accustomed to his teasing, had learn to accept it has part of being his friend. 

* * * 

An interesting development came when they were two weeks into their trip to the Emerald Graves. Cassandra had been knocked unceremoniously into the creek behind their camp by a particularly nasty Shade, while the Inquisitor had been trying to seal the rift. 

Cassandra had been forced to strip her out of everything and let it dry by the fire. She already had the indignity of having to borrow a shirt from the Inquisitor, a white linen thing that was slightly too big, the neck gaping. Still, she supposed, it was better than having nothing at all.

When she readied herself for bed that night, she was already frayed, a touch on edge. And oddly vulnerable. So when she found the spider, as big as a sovereign, sitting happily atop her bedroll, its legs stretched out and twitching slightly, she ended up doing the most undignified thing she could possibly imagine. 

She shrieked. 

A high pitched sound that would have better suited a girl of eight rather than a woman – a warrior – of thirty-eight. Then she scrambled out of the tent, nearly falling over in her haste. She was saved from sprawling on the ground by a pair of large, warm hands; one on her shoulder, the other about her waist. 

“Problem, Seeker?” Varric asked, as he helped her to straighten up. His voice was even, but his eyes were dancing with barely restrained mirth. She bit back a curse. 

Licking her lips, Cassandra glanced back at the tent and weighed her options. At the moment she just wanted to sleep, and she could not do that until the horrid creature was gone. So she risked the truth.

“There...” she stopped, and swallowed, closing her eyes to avoid the inevitable smirk Varric would wear. “There is a spider on my bedroll.” 

“The mighty Seeker Pentaghast, destroyer of bears, thwarted by a _spider_? Huh,” he mused, “can't say I would've ever come up with that one.” 

She ventured a glance at him, cracking one eye open to find him grinning. Letting out a sigh, her shoulders sagged. “It did not _thwart_ me, Varric. I only.. it startled me. I do not like them, and I wish it gone.”

His grin widened and he stepped a little closer, looking up at her serenely. “Why, Seeker, are you in need of rescuing? Never fear, fair maiden, for your knight in shining armor is here.” 

“Varric...” she covered her face, groaning into her hands. 

He was cackling as he slipped into the tent, returning only a moment later with his hands cupped together. Cassandra took a reflexive step back. 

“Don't worry, Seeker. I'll make sure the little guy is far away from camp. I actually have plenty of practice saving Hawke. She can't stand them either.”

“Really?” Cassandra was bolstered by that fact. She had something in common with the Champion. 

“Oh, yeah. She'll jump ten feet in the air if she sees one.” He shook his head fondly, and wandered away from camp to find a proper home for the creature. 

Cassandra waited outside the tent, arms folded, and one leg awkwardly crossed in front of the other. She didn't particularly like being so exposed, the shirt thin, the hem barely reaching her thighs. However, she was not about to go back inside the tent until she was certain it was clear. And so she waited for Varric. 

When he returned, she thought he faltered mid-step. She followed his gaze, locked on her lower half, and felt her face flush. 

Varric Tethras was _not_ staring at her legs. 

She called his name until he shook himself, and snapped his eyes up to meet hers. Even in the dim light of the campfire she could tell his face was ruddier than usual. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, that's taken care of, Seeker. You're safe.” 

“Thank you.” She shifted awkwardly, only then realizing they were to share the tent for the night. Maker, take it all. 

Varric, obviously having collected himself, sidled up to her playfully. “What about a token from the fair maiden? Perhaps a kiss?” He grinned and pointed to his cheek. 

“Don't be ridiculous!” Cassandra shoved his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Get to bed, you absurd dwarf.” 

“My lady,” he gasped, hand flying up to cover his chest. “That was _not_ the token I had imagined!” 

“Varric, please!” She was laughing as she started pushing him toward the tent. “Stop it and go to sleep.” 

Once inside Varric shed his duster, and boots, settling on his bedroll next to hers. “See? Perfectly safe,” he said, spreading his hands. 

Huffing out a breath, Cassandra quickly settled herself and decided to pretend none of that had happened. She would simply forget that she had shrieked, or that Varric had flirted with her, and she would most _certainly_ forget the fact that she had liked it. 

That was not their relationship. Nor would it ever be. Nor did she want it to be their relationship. They were friends. Nothing more, she nodded resolutely to herself. 

Next to her, Varric's eyes were shut and she marveled that he could fall asleep so quickly. “Goodnight, Cassandra,” he mumbled, voice drowsy. 

That had her eyes going wide. She rolled onto her side and looked at him, flat on his back with hands folded on his stomach. He looked content, and fast asleep, his breaths deep and even. The use of her name was a surprise, but a pleasant one. 

She wasn't sure what spurred her to do it, not exactly, but after a short while Cassandra leaned forward, intending to press a thank you kiss – a token – to Varric's cheek. However, he shifted in his sleep, head turning just enough that it was no longer his cheek she kissed, but rather his mouth. 

His lips were soft and it was nice. The realization of that was shocking enough for Cassandra to come to her senses and pull back, one hand raising to cover her mouth. She was utterly mortified when she saw Varric was indeed awake, and looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Seeker...?”

“I'm sorry. I was only... I didn't mean. You _moved_!” she said, brows knit. She spoke a little more forcefully than she had intended, her embarrassment giving way to annoyance. At herself, at the situation... at the way her heart had fluttered. What a treacherous thing it was. 

“So it's my fault then?” He quirked a brow, and his amusement was clear. “Who was kissing who, Seeker?” 

“I wanted to thank you. I do not know why I did it.” She shook her head. “I am sorry.”

“There are worse things to wake up to, trust me.” 

“No, that was not my intention.... it wasn't. Chaste, I meant it be chaste. Between friends.” She was rambling, she never rambled. “We are friends are we not, Varric? You paid me a kindness, and I wanted to thank you for it. To return it.” 

“That's new,” he said. 

She looked at him, brows lifting in confusion. “What is?”

“Hawke and I are good friends, and I saved her from more spiders than I can count. She never offered to kiss me. And she certainly never tried.” 

Cassandra looked anywhere except his face as she floundered for words, an apology... an excuse. Anything that didn't result in admitting the truth: she had _wanted_ to. 

She continued to sputter, tripping over her tongue, her face hot, until Varric's laugh stopped her. Finally venturing another look at him, she saw him smiling. Though it wasn't mocking, or teasing. She thought... she thought it was almost happy. 

“Cassandra?” he asked. 

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” Then he grabbed the front of her shirt and tugged her down. In her surprise, Cassandra tumbled forward, sprawling onto Varric's chest. Her quiet gasp silenced by Varric's lips on hers.


End file.
